The Black Widow
by Heinz-Lee
Summary: Disclaimer: Any characters or events you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. What if Harry had known Luna in his fourth year? What if he had asked her to go to the ball with him instead of Parvati? What if she had a DEADLY secret? Rated T for unintentional beastiality. Please read and review.


**THE BLACK WIDOW**

The Entrance Hall had never been this full of people, Harry noted, as he led her to their place behind Viktor and a strange, yet somehow familiar girl. He felt a little nervous of making a fool of himself in front of the crowd of people, as he watched them enter the Great Hall, some of them were single, like Crabbe and Goyle, he was pleased to note, others were in pairs or small groups. Everyone seemed so happy, so excited that the evening had come at last.

At last, the champions were motioned forward. Cedric entered first with Cho on his arm, with a peaceful look on his face. Then Fleur followed with the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davis. Fleur looked haughty as always, and strangely disdainful, considering the cleanliness of the castle, while Davis gaped at her like a guppy fish out of water. Viktor followed with the beautiful girl on his arm, and as the light struck them, Harry recognised her: it was Hermione. Had it been any other night, and had it been any other occasion, Harry would have been shocked about this, especially considering Ron's feelings for her.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. He was pleased to hear the surprised gasp from the crowd as he entered, with her gliding beside him. He was pleased, too, to note that they received the loudest applause of all the champions. Even Viktor Krum, with all his fame had not received such enthusiastic applause. Harry smiled contentedly as he led her to the long table where the judges and other champions sat.

Harry thought, if he had come with any of the other girls vying for his attention, he would probably have found it odd that Mr Crouch had not turned up for another event and that Percy had come in his stead. As it was, he couldn't care less who was standing in for whom and for what reason. He didn't care that Ginny had gone with Neville. In fact, he couldn't be bothered that Cedric had gone with Cho instead of him. His mind was blissfully occupied with more important matters – the girl beside him, for one.

He clearly remembered the day he had asked her to come with him. It had been just after Cho had rejected him ... just after he had made a fool of himself in front of a girl he had fancied for the last year.

Harry stood in the corridor, watching Cho walk around the corner. He felt slightly depressed after her rejection, although she had been very kind about it. Her words echoed in his head as he wondered what he should do now; until it came to him ... he would ask Luna, the girl Ginny had pointed out to him earlier that year. He was sure she would be free, since very few people saw her worth beneath all the strange beliefs.

He wondered, for a moment, where he would find her, until he remembered one of her favourite haunts. He turned around and sprinted in the direction of an empty classroom which she frequented, hoping against hope that she would be there.

Five minutes later found him in the classroom, clutching a stitch in his side as he peered into the shadows. He was about to turn around when a dreamy voice said: "Hi, Harry."

"Luna," he gasped, noticing the way her eyes glowed in the twilight. "Would you be interested ...? Would it be possible ... would you like to go to the ball with me?"

Silence. His heart raced and he turned, preparing himself to sprint away, before he had to face another rejection, when he thought he heard her say: "Yes."

He turned to face her: "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I said yes, I would like to go with you, Harry," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

Harry was glad she had consented to go with him and as she sat beside him, he wondered how he could have found any other girl attractive. She was strange, but that made her all the more endearing to him. Tonight her long, blonde hair was cleaner than usual and tied in an elegant braid. She wore bright, sunshine-orange dress robes, which would have been out-of-place on any other girl, but seemed strangely attractive on her. He was glad to see that she had left her radishes and butter beer cork necklace – more for her benefit than his. He wondered what she was thinking as he stared into her dreamy eyes. Probably about nargles, or something like that, he thought.

He scarcely noticed the lovely dishes which passed through his digestive tract, nor did he notice the conversation of the others at the table as she mentioned something about her search for the elusive Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something.

When the dance began, she had to tap on his shoulder, before he noticed. "What is it," he asked, dazedly.

"The dance, Harry. Nargles infesting your brain. I'm sure I heard some around here."

"I guess. C'mon."

He led her onto the floor as the music began to play. Admittedly, neither of them knew how to dance, but he couldn't care less as he spun her in graceful circles, until the next song began and they both felt dizzy. "Would you like to go outside for some fresh air?"

"Yeah, I think that would be great," he said as he led her out.

As they walked, he heard some of the other guys wolf-whistle and someone yelled: "Can I dance with your girl, Potter."

"Nah, she's mine," he yelled, proudly.

"Wouldn't want her anyway. She's Loony."

"Just ignore them. They're jealous, because they didn't think to ask you first," he said.

He walked past Ron's table on the way out. Ron called him over, but he ignored him, not seeing the need to spoil his mood, because Ron was grumpy. He led her out onto the lawn, not even looking back when Ron and Hermione's argument reached his ears.

It seemed different somehow. The sweeping lawns had been replaced with statues small pathways, tinkling fountains and glittering bushes which Harry couldn't remember seeing before. They walked down one of these until they found a little nook where they could hide in peace. They sat down and stared into each other's eyes. A fountain tinkled musically nearby as Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She turned towards him, staring deep into his eyes, bright green eyes, like emeralds and she felt something stirring within her.

He smiled at her, as he stared deeply into her mesmerising eyes. She smelt strangely sweet as he stroked her soft strands of hair. She looked up at him and whispered: "Aren't you going to kiss me, Harry?"

"What ... oh yeah ... that," he said feeling dreadfully stupid. He gathered her closer to him and pressed his lips to hers, noting as he did so that he could never love anyone else. Other guys would call her forward, perhaps, but he honestly didn't care, as her lips opened under his and their kiss deepened.

He wasn't quite sure when they finally broke apart, all he knew was that something was bothering him. With a rush of sound, he heard Hagrid's voice split the night and he couldn't help feeling resentment towards his oldest friend at that moment. "Did you know Hagrid was half-giant," she asked.

"I guess. He is too big to be human. C'mon, there are more important things at the moment."

Harry noticed that her nipples were showing through the fabric of her dress robes and he wondered vaguely what it would be like to touch her breasts. She noticed where his eyes were roaming and took his hand shyly in hers. Carefully, she placed it over her heart. He stared at her feeling nervous. Would she allow him to go further, or would she push him away?

She pressed to him and as their lips met again, he slid his hand in her robes to stroke the soft flesh underneath. He felt hot and strangely confined in his clothes. "You like it," she whispered.

He could only hold her closer, devouring her eyes, her lips, and her neck with passionate kisses as he placed her gently on the ground. "Not here. It's too open."

When he registered what she had said, he stood up, taking her in his arms and carried her through the grounds to the nearest broom shed. He placed her on the ground. He was very gentle with her, although his body screamed at him to hurry up. "Did you know, the flaxen-fairies told me you were the right one," she commented as they lay, naked in each other's arms. "Daddy says that if the flaxen-fairies tell you that you are meant for someone, it means that they give you their blessing. I'm glad they did, I couldn't bear to be cursed by them, could you."

"No," he whispered hoarsely.

She pulled him closer and as their bodies met, he could swear she whispered, "Your mine, Harry."

Then she pressed her lips to his, and Harry knew no more...

Hours later, when Ron and Hermione went to search for him, they found only the husk of his body and a large black widow creeping up the wall. Hermione noticed the strange shape and colour of the spiders eyes and immediately tried to point it out to Ron, whose fear of spiders kept him from understanding this bit of information.

Realizing that she didn't have the power for the killing curse, Hermione stepped out of one of her shoes and tossed at the spider, who tried to move out of the way ... but, too late, the shoe caught it in the centre of its round body and the spider was no more than a splatter of blood on the wall.


End file.
